


A Day of Sunny Face and Temper

by mywholecry



Series: days of sunny face & temper [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Community: dogdaysofsummer, F/M, Genderswap
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-05-31
Updated: 2011-05-31
Packaged: 2017-10-19 22:45:06
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,231
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/206030
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mywholecry/pseuds/mywholecry
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“They’re in love,” Remus says, stretching her legs out in front of her, crossing delicate ankles. Sirius prods aimlessly at a bone, fingers brushing against her bare toes, and she shies away, almost giggling. “People are supposed to act stupid and unattractive when they’re in love. Or so I’ve read.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Day of Sunny Face and Temper

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Dog Days of Summer 2009. Always-a-girl genderswap.

There’s the vague click of the front door shutting from the next room, and then Remus appears in the doorway, smiling hesitantly when she sees them. It’s been a month since school ended, and she looks too skinny, even smaller than before, her legs a little shaky under her white dress. Sirius grins against the worry sitting somewhere in his stomach, because–well, _Moony_.

“I had to convince my mum that you lot weren’t going to take advantage of me, but. . .” she starts, rolling her eyes and tightening one hand on her suitcase as she lifts her arms, slightly, “here I am.”

“Fucking finally,” James says, pulling his arm away from Lily to get to his feet, taking Remus’ suitcase and wrapping an arm around her waist, holding her in a quick hug before Sirius grabs her by the wrist and tugs her down into James’ seat.

“Hi, Sirius, god,” she says, laughing softly when he buries his nose into her hair.

“James and Evans,” Sirius murmurs, close to her cheek, “are going to drive me _insane_. Never, ever leave me again.”

“Yeah, okay,” she whispers back, smile more overt now, letting him wrap his arms around her middle as she turns to say hello to Lily.

*

“They’re like _animals_ , seriously,” Sirius says, eyes wide and grave as he stares across the bed at Remus while they hide in the guest room. She smirks at him and glances over at Peter, sitting with his back to the headboard.

“Animals,” Peter intones, nodding.

“They’re in love,” Remus says, stretching her legs out in front of her, crossing delicate ankles. Sirius prods aimlessly at a bone, fingers brushing against her bare toes, and she shies away, almost giggling. “People are supposed to act stupid and unattractive when they’re in love. Or so I’ve read.”

“God help us if we ever fall in love,” Sirius murmurs, and Remus widens her eyes a little, making him stumble back over his words. “With anyone! I mean, not. . .like, each other. Or Peter. I don’t think I would ever fall in love with Pete.”

“Thanks a lot,” Peter says, huffing out a laugh, and Sirius moves to pounce at him and pin him to the bed while Remus scrambles to the floor to avoid getting in elbow to her eye.

*

Once Peter goes home to spend the rest of the summer with his family after his mother spends a month worrying too much about pushing the Potter’s unending hospitality. Two teenage boys in one room, Lily and Remus kipping together in the guest room, and Peter on the sofa wouldn’t have made much of a difference. It’s different after he’s gone, though, not better, but. Different. He has Remus all to himself now.

“We should just not go back to school next year,” Sirius says, shutting his eyes, lying on his back in the warm grass with Remus beside him. She nudges him with her elbow.

“Right,” she murmurs, half-asleep.

“What more could we possibly learn?” he asks, airily, knowing she probably stopped listening to him a few minutes ago. He turns his head to the side, looking at her, then stops abruptly. “. . .are you wearing makeup, Moony?”

Her eyes open slightly, catch his.

“I always wear makeup,” she says.

“Yeah, but that’s because. . .what was it. . .you were tired of ‘fighting society’s rigid opinion of your gender’? But there’s nobody here.” He pauses. “You hate wearing makeup.”

She looks at him for a long moment, flushes, looks up at the sky again.

“I don’t _hate_ it,” she mumbles, then throws a thin arm over her eyes to block out the sunlight.

*

Sirius has always been aware of Remus, in ways. Ever since they found out that she was a werewolf, especially, when she was just a perpetually silent twelve-year-old with some seriously awesome scars for a girl, he’s spent a lot of time just looking at her, trying to figure her out.

She’s grown up, though, in a lot of way, and he knows that she’s pretty. She’s slim, almost too thin, but there these subtle curves that you wouldn’t notice if you didn’t make a habit out of noticing Remus, like he has. She holds herself taller now, not like she used to. Maybe, maybe she’s hiding less.

Sometimes, Remus catches him staring at her, but she never says anything.

Sometimes, he’s pretty sure she’s staring back.

*

One night, he wakes up sometime at two in the morning to find James gone and Remus standing in the doorway, rapping against the frame with her knuckles. He sits up, blinking at her. She’s wearing one of her dad’s shirts, one that doesn’t quite brush her knees.

“James and Lily want to copulate in the guest room,” she says, softly, amused. “Mind sharing?”

He moves over to make room, opening the blankets so she can slide in next to them, cold toes brushing over his leg as she settles in.

“Animals,” he murmurs, close to her hair. “Didn’t I tell you,” but Remus has already fallen asleep. He lets himself move closer to her as he drifts off, has forehead resting against the nape of her neck when she starts to make small noises in her sleep. He holds still until he realizes that she sounds like she’s in pain, her feet shuffling aimlessly.

He sits up, puts an arm on her shoulder, pressing gently.

“Rem, Remus. Wake up,” he says, not quite a whisper, leaning down closer. She whimpers, face crumpling in her sleep, until he shakes her harder. Her eyes fly open, wide and frightened. “It’s me, it’s me.”

“Shit,” she whispers, but she lets herself be pulled into his arms, burying her face in his chest.

“The last moon was bad, wasn’t it?” he asks, and he hates himself for not being there, for not making sure that someone was there to help her. When she looks up at him, the air around them shifts, almost, seems thicker. There’s mascara smeared around her eyes, faint from her shower, and their faces are so close.

“Sirius,” she says, shakily, and she presses forward, kisses him on the corner of his lips. The kiss gets deeper, slowly, and she moves to her knees to get closer, pressing him into the headboard. This is new, and very, very scary, but Remus doesn’t want to talk about it now, and she runs hands through his hair, breathes against his lips.

“What is this?” he asks, pressing fingers against her waist, thick fabric and bare skin somewhere underneath it. She kisses him once, lightly, on the side of his jaw.

“I miss you when you’re not there,” she says, and he thinks it might be the most honest she’s ever been with anyone, even that night she cried and showed them her scar and thought that they would hate her forever. He wraps arms around her waist and holds her too tight.

*

The next morning, Remus is awake before him, leaning on her elbow and staring down at him when he wakes up. He smiles at her, carefully, not sure what’s happening until she slides back next to him and hides her face in his neck, her skin hot.

“Does this mean we get to act like James and Evans now?” Sirius asks, softly, pressing lips to the part in her hair.

“Yeah,” Remus whispers. “Yeah, I think so.”


End file.
